


Accrescence

by Voiid_Vagabond (Saturn_the_Almighty)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bigotry, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Vulcan Clothing, Illustrations, Little To No Conflict, M/M, Meet the Family, Other, Peter Kirk is here too and he is adorable, Pining, Shore Leave, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, The T in James T. Kirk stands for Reckless Endangerment, Vacation, Vulcan Kisses, bed sharing, lots of plants, planet lore I don't use past one mention, sappy gayness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_the_Almighty/pseuds/Voiid_Vagabond
Summary: While grounded for an indeterminate period of time on a popular vacation planet, Kirk gets word that his brother and extended in-laws have invited him to vacation with them for three weeks.Who is he to refuse, after so long without seeing his brother? The problem is Sam’s wife’s family tends  to be difficult to deal with, so he brings along some ‘emotional security.’It’s not Sam’s fault he assumes Jim and Spock are boyfriends.
Relationships: Aurelan Kirk/George Samuel Kirk, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 60
Kudos: 283





	1. mesophyll: the photosynthetic tissue of a leaf

Jim Kirk never liked when the Enterprise was evacuated for repairs and maintenance, but it was something that had to be done, especially with all the trouble they seemed to be prone to getting into. So he was forced to park his life’s career in a spacedock on some nearby Federation planet so they could survive the next wacky, dangerous encounter.

The planet they were stuck on was an M class giant of a thing called Carsei. Civilization was centered around the equator. The area most visitors resided in had a Federation outpost nestled in a jungle between, but not too far away from, two resorts, both of which were hotspots for vacationers and tourists in the sector.

The weather was warm most of the year, but with near-constant breezes whipping around the planet so the flora had adapted in stride and the buildings had been constructed accordingly. Jim debated whether or not to forego packing the flowy cropped top he had gotten from Uhura for his last birthday. He decided to pack it anyway, after all this would be the last time he'd be able to wear clothing out of uniform for a long time.

After leaving the Enterprise in the, hopefully, capable hands of the Carsei engineers, Jim took himself and most of his bridge crew down to Carsei’s surface as they were the last ones to leave.

He and Scotty were the ones most reluctant to leave, although the rest of the crew was very happy for some long anticipated shore leave, even if for a time that had yet to be determined. The engineers at the spacedock told them they wouldn’t have a timeframe until they could get a good look at the ship’s damage— at which Scotty seemed ready to launch into a tirade about “treating her with respect as one would a lover”— so Jim resigned himself to a vacation.

Bones said it would be good for him. Bones had also skipped off to the nearest dingy bar with Sulu for gossip and drinks at the nearest convenience, so Jim was inclined to skepticism.

It was pitch dark in the nighttime when they landed and wordlessly, the group decided to explore the resort and surrounding city in the daylight hours. It had been a long, exhausting, and mentally taxing day so Jim barely registered where they were headed but Spock guided them all to their lodgings and they collapsed, four into one room, into various states of comfortable sleep.

The morning came, and with it some confusion. Uhura and Scotty awoke far later than Spock and Jim, who had already left to find food and were greeted in the midst of changing out of their uniforms by Sulu and Bones, both hungover and doing very different jobs of hiding it.

“Where’s the Captain?” Sulu asked, poking his head into the room after a few clumsy knocks on it. Uhura shrugged, pulling on a pair of boots studded with synthesized crystals and striding to the door.

“Haven’t a clue, but I’d bet Scotty’s shirt he’s finding something to eat,” She said, jerking her thumb behind her at Scotty, who was buttoning up the boldest red velveteen button-up any of the three had ever seen.

Bones poked his head over the top of Sulu’s and snorted. “Good luck getting Scotty to give that thing up after you’ve won, Uhura,” he muttered, squinting against the light.

“Both of you need to get some coffee and breakfast into you too,” Uhura warned, “if you want to be able to enjoy the place.”

Sulu shook his head, opening the door fully and slipping inside. “Never mind that, I need to find Kirk, he’s got a message here. It got wired to mine and McCoy’s room by accident.”

Scotty frowned, walking up to the two. “Ya make it sound urgent, spit it out, Mr. Sulu,” he urged.

“One George Samuel Kirk, Aurelan Kirk, and family are here on vacation and request to speak with him.”

Scotty's eyes bugged out. "His brother's here? Why didn't ya lead with that, man, we've gotta get that message to Kirk!"

Sulu nodded sharply and they all filed out of the room, striding down the halls to the ground floor in search of the nearest place to get food.

* * *

"Spock."

Spock looked up from his padd where he had been reading a recent scientific paper. Jim was standing next to the table he sat at, on a sunny outside patio connected to a café.

"Jim," Spock returned calmly, turning all his attention to his captain.

"Are you finished? Would you like to go on a walk?" Jim asked, fiddling with his comm in his hands.

He had excused himself earlier after their breakfast at the insistence of Mr. Sulu and it concerned Spock that he seemed so anxious after returning. Spock glanced at the empty teacup sitting on the table alongside his padd and nodded.

"Let us take a walk, Jim," he said, standing gracefully and smoothing down his uniform shirt with both hands.

Jim put his comm away and stood with his fists squarely on his hips.

"Spock, I'm sure you're aware, but… we're technically off-duty. You don't have to wear your uniform," he informed Spock.

"Indeed," was all the answer he got. Spock breezed past him and Jim had to hurry to catch up as Spock headed for a big sign that pointed to a popular trailhead, one that snaked through the outskirts of the forest.

"You can't tell me," Jim began, gently resting his hand on Spock's arm, "that there aren't  _ any _ gorgeous Vulcan outfits you've missed wearing?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Vulcans do not 'miss' things, Jim," he deadpanned.

"Of course," Jim drawled. "But paying tribute to one's culture when able is certainly logical, is it not?" He tried. Spock gave him a look that uniquely indicated deep thought.

"It is," he conceded. "Perhaps I will dress in contemporary fashion tomorrow."

Jim grinned to himself. It was so rare he got to see Spock wearing something other than that  _ blue shirt _ and he would admit he had a deep appreciation for Vulcan fashion. Especially on Spock.

"I look forward to it," he caught himself saying and Spock mumbled an "illogical" in response.

The two strolled through the jungle underbrush, following a wide, packed dirt path. Jim marveled at the surroundings, so caught up in the lush, flourishing life that he almost missed when Spock removed Jim's hand from his bicep and instead locked arms.

It felt intimate coming from Spock, but a sweet gesture all the same. Jim couldn't possibly expect him to  _ hold hands _ and this was a perfect compromise between Jim's inherent need for physical contact and Spock's boundaries.

Jim felt like he might never stop smiling when he felt the weight of his comm at his hip and remembered why he'd asked Spock on the walk in the first place. Not that he  _ wouldn't _ have asked for no reason.

"Spock," he started, because Jim would never get tired of saying his name. "I'd like to ask you something."

At that moment, the dirt pathway turned into porous concrete or something similar, angling upwards in a gentle slope. Jim glanced around, wondering why they were suddenly walking  _ up _ when he noticed a sign, half-hidden under large plant leaves.

**Teryīan's Falls - 12 U ↑**

The Uil was the native unit of measurement. Jim wasn't sure how that translated but Spock didn't seem like he was going to turn around.

"Yes, Jim?" Spock prompted, speaking so softly that his voice didn't disrupt the natural background noise of the jungle.

Jim took a deep breath.

“Would you like to accompany me to the… other resort for a few weeks? I’ll be spending time with my brother and some of his wife’s family and… to be honest I’d rather not go it alone,” Jim laughed at the end, ducking his head under a wide plant leaf that leant out over the walkway.

Spock turned to him, still keeping in step, and raised an eyebrow carefully.

“Don’t get me wrong, Spock, I promise you weren’t a last resort or anything like that. I just… well, I was going to ask Bones because he's met Sammy before, but he said no, and…” Jim trailed off, realizing too late he probably hadn’t needed to defend himself at all.

Spock shook his head slightly. “I take no offense at your choice of companions. It is only logical you would want to invite your closest friend.”

Jim smiled. “Well, yes, but… You… Spock, Bones is my closest friend but you’re— um,  _ you know— _ my…” he trailed off, realizing just short that anything he could finish with would be far too embarrassing. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get my thoughts together. But you know you mean a lot to me, right?” Not quite a cover-up, seeing as it was a hundred percent the truth anyway.

“Yes, Jim. I do.” Spock let that familiar ghost of a smile pass over his face and Jim reveled in the way it set his face aglow.

“Good. I’ll find the word I was looking for. It’ll come to me,” he mumbled, turning his face up to gaze at the clouds for a moment as they continued their stroll.

It wasn't too long before Jim could hear the telltale sound of water hitting water at terminal velocity and they reached the top of a hill, the concrete walkway evening out again. Jim's eyes widened as they stepped out onto a balcony overlooking a small yet breathtaking pool of crystal-clear water. The waterfalls,  _ Teryīan's falls, _ were tall and thin, pouring out over the edge of either end of a cliff and down below into the pool. The water looked crisp and cool, the fall's spray just barely reaching them from where they stood.

Jim leaned out over the railing and peeked down over vines and brave trees and into the deep, deep pool. He wondered if visitors were allowed to swim. What he wouldn't give for a plunge into that crystal blue.

"This is beautiful," Jim breathed. He didn't expect to be heard over the pounding of water but Spock stepped up beside him and nodded.

"It is incredibly aesthetically pleasing," he agreed. Jim grinned.

The two stayed and watched the falls for a time, sitting in near yet comfortable silence and simply enjoying each other's company.

Jim thought he'd love to bring Sam and his family here if it turned out they  _ were _ allowed to swim.

As Jim and Spock neared the city a while later, the star was setting and Jim reached for his comm to ask Bones to remind him where their lodgings were because he still hasn't gotten his bearings, Spock put a hand on his arm, eyes full of the dying skylight.

“I am unsure whether it was made clear earlier, but I  _ will _ accompany you on your vacation, Jim,” Spock said with certainty. Jim smiled despite himself, a silly grin that threatened never to leave.

  
“I’m glad. I’m sure we’ll have a great time. Sam and Aurelan will  _ really like _ you, I’m sure,” he said. And that was the truth, he was  _ certain. _ He couldn't say the same for the rest of the people joining them, however.


	2. abaxial: the surface of an organ facing away from the organ's axis

Jim was awoken by the sound of Uhura laughing. All things considered, he couldn’t really be mad about that.

It was a wonderful sound at any time and Jim sat up, rubbing at his eyes, and focused on the room around him.

Uhura had apparently amassed groceries from most of the other bridge crew members and was waving a spatula around while she stood in front of the stove in the little kitchenette in their room. Something was cooking, most likely breakfast, and Bones was draped over the arm of a chair. Uhura had been laughing at whatever he’d said, Scotty just barely suppressing his own laughter. Sulu was still in bed, reading something on his padd but still half-participating in the conversation.

Jim shuffled out of bed and tried to escape to the bathroom so he could be presentable to his crew before they wanted to interact with him, but Bones trapped him with a gaze across the room.

“Jim, good morning,” he called and the others in the room turned.

Through a chorus of “Good morning, Captain!” Jim replied softly and shut the bathroom door behind him, closing his eyes and letting out his first full breath of the day.

“Jim?”

He hadn’t expected the voice and jumped at it, eyes snapping open. 

Spock was standing in the middle of the bathroom looking like a dream. Jim resisted the urge to pinch himself and check.

He was wearing a long sleeveless shirt in a deep blue over a skintight black undershirt that covered nearly every inch of skin that wasn’t either his face or fingers. The blue shirt reached almost to his ankles, with a round embroidered neckline that plunged into a row of buttons, all lined with a lighter blue fabric.

Still watching Jim— with an expression that was quickly becoming concerned— he shrugged on a sort of shawl, or maybe a robe, made of heavier fabric in a deep, inky blue like the evening sky. It sat on his shoulders squarely and wrapped his arms in wide, sweeping sleeves that threw his dexterous hands into shadow. The robe hung down to his ankles and was hemmed with golden thread, woven with what looked like tiny blue sandstone beads, and shimmering with his movements.

Jim blinked himself out of his trance, eyes sliding up to Spock’s face.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he breathed, and it was _true._ Spock was a vision of beauty— he put the _ocean to shame_ wearing that shade of blue— tall and elegant as always and _how tall were those boots he had on?_ He towered over Jim even more than usual.

Spock inclined his head, a tint to his cheeks that Jim couldn't remember ever seeing before.

"Why thank you, Jim," he said, turning slightly to look at himself in the mirror. _If Bones were here,_ Jim thought idly, _he'd say Spock looks like a preening peacock or something._

“When are we scheduled to meet with your relatives?” he asked, leaning closer to the mirror and inspecting his face closely, gently retouching his eyeshadow as Jim watched in rapt attention.

“Sam said, and I quote ‘whenever we want,’ and I suddenly remember why I don’t try and make plans with him,” Jim said dryly. “We can leave after breakfast and get there by the afternoon, maybe have a late lunch while you get to meet everyone?” Jim suggested. “How do you feel about another walk? A longer one this time. It’s perfectly realistic to walk from here to the other resort, it’s not that terribly far, although I—”

Jim cleared his throat. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

Spock laced his fingers together and stepped closer to Jim. “I do not mind. You may speak for as long as you wish.” He breezed past Jim, briefly touching his shoulder as he went. “Perhaps the term you are looking for is a ‘hike.’ It sounds agreeable. I will wait for you in the lobby.”

Spock closed the door softly behind him and Jim nearly dropped to his knees. He only hoped he would be able to survive the day with Spock looking like _that._

Jim washed his face and combed his hair, deciding quickly to take a brief shower and when he was clean he snuck back out to his bed and the suitcase he'd slipped underneath and pulled out and outfit for himself, much more simple than anything Spock wore: a pair of dark blue linen shorts and a button-up short sleeve shirt, a pale yellow his mom would've called 'lemon sorbet' or something fancy.

Bones sidled up to him after he had dressed, eyebrows raised in a knowing manner.

"I bet you're looking forward to seeing Spock in _that_ all day long," Bones teased, drawing out the last of his sentence in a heavily accented drawl.

"If you must know, _I am._ It's not every day I get to appreciate contemporary Vulcan fashion," Jim deflected and he pretended not to notice Bones' eye roll at that subpar reply.

Jim actually owned hiking boots, which he slipped on while Uhura passed around breakfast. She had made a kind of breakfast burrito with potatoes, grilled vegetables and various other toppings. Jim's mouth watered at the smell and he ate an entire one and a half before he remembered that Spock was waiting for him and he'd _never_ make Spock wait too long.

Jim took his suitcase with him, seeing as they'd be staying over at the resort and he met Spock in the lobby inspecting the map of the surrounding area that was projected huge on the wall. Spock turned as he approached, readily holding out his elbow for Jim to link their arms and together, through silent communication, they set off.

* * *

The leviathan plant growth of the jungle protected the pair from most of the breezes as they had the day before, the huge leaves of the underbrush acting like curtains and enveloping them in a calm, undisturbed bubble.

Their hike would take them past the pool and waterfalls they'd seen yesterday, the Federation outpost, and then down into a valley where the other resort was nestled.

Jim alternately watched Spock point his tricorder at various things that caught his attention and peered into the shadowy jungle, attempting to spot any and all animal life he could find. Jim found it impossibly endearing that Spock had even _brought_ his tricorder along, yet it was something that was so uniquely fitting.

They took the hike at a leisurely pace, having nearly the whole day to reach their destination. Jim had taken along some snacks, stuffed into his suitcase alongside clothes that he hadn’t even looked at for months on end, knowing that he’d get hungry sooner or later and that Spock was unlikely to stop.

He was surprised, however, when the man in question slowed his pace and came to a pause in front of a gigantic tree which towered up into the sky, far past what Jim could see. Spock let his eyes trail up the trunk until it disappeared and then back down.

“Fascinating,” he mumbled, walking up to it and placing a gentle hand on the bark.

His tricorder beeped at him and he peered at the screen, no doubt doing calculations in his head before the device could have a chance.

“Jim, this tree has been here for the equivalent of eight-thousand, four-hundred and sixty point six Earth years.” He turned to Jim, a glittering in his eyes that brought an unprompted warmth to Jim’s cheeks. He ducked his head and went to stand by Spock at the base of the tree.

“That’s very impressive,” he said, sitting down on the grass and leaning his back against the trunk.

Spock looked down at him and Jim wondered if he was debating whether it would be proper to sit down as well or if he _just wanted to look at Jim._ Well, one of those was much more probable.

“I just need a few minutes,” Jim explained. Spock nodded, dipping his hands into his sleeves as he lowered himself to the ground, feet tucked under himself.

“Would you like something to eat?” Spock asked, producing something wrapped in a thermal napkin from his robes. Jim gawked at him. “Is that Uhura’s breakfast?” he reached for it, feeling it was still warm from the morning. Spock nodded as he peeled back the thermal napkin and breathed in the smell of home-cooked food.

“Thank you, Spock,” he said, voice uncharacteristically quiet. Spock gave him a small upturn of his lips in response and Jim could’ve melted _right there._

“Thanks is not necessary,” he insisted.

Jim ate in silence, watching Spock alternately fiddle with his tricorder and set it in his lap to gaze at the surroundings.

They resumed walking, Spock offering his arm to help Jim to his feet— at which Jim was happy that Spock wasn't watching him blush furiously— and reached the falls before they knew it.

Today there was a person in a Federation uniform standing at the observation balcony and Jim disengaged his arm from Spock's to go talk to them.

"Excuse me," he started, taking out his comm for the translator to be better heard, just in case. "I have a question about this area, do you think you might be able to answer?"

They said nothing.

Jim tried again, "I'd like to know if visitors are allowed to swim there, I'd love to try. If not, that's alright too and I'll just admire it."

The person tilted their head, considering his comm, his face, then Spock behind him.

"You two are Starfleet?" They asked, in Federation Standard, although it didn't sound much like a question.

"Yes, we are," Jim replied with uncertainty. He hadn't had his question answered just yet.

"Visitors must schedule a time to swim," they said, "it's to avoid crowding, you see. I can set you up with the schedule later if you tell me where you'll be staying."

Jim was caught off-guard by the blunt way they spoke, but they were being helpful regardless so he didn't pay it much mind. After relaying the room and resort to the officer, they nodded curtly and turned away again, looking out over the basin.

Jim shrugged and jogged back to Spock, linking their arms again so smoothly it felt like second-nature already.

* * *

By the time they reached the resort, the star was just slightly past overhead and Jim sent off a quick comm message to Sam while he and Spock dumped their suitcases in their room. The resort had already been nearly packed so the only room Jim could squeeze out of them had one bed.

Not that he minded.

There was a lovely outdoor sitting area skirted by a flower garden which Spock had ushered him to and they were sitting— side-by-side with very little room between them— on a stone bench when Jim heard a very loud shout of _"Jimmy!"_ And he jumped to his feet, turned around and vaulted over the bench.

_"Sam!"_

Sam Kirk was standing not too far away with his arms wide open and Jim barreled into him, almost knocking them both off their feet. He held his brother in a tight embrace for a moment, mutterings of "I missed you" and "you dummy" between them.

Sam held his brother at arm's length, grinning from ear to ear.

"How have you been, Jimmy?" He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Jim glared half-heartedly at him.

"I've been fine. I told you not to call me 'Jimmy,'" he said. "I'm _Jim."_

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, I know, I know, I was just playing."

Jim ignored him in favor of turning to his wife, who was smiling much more pleasantly.

"Aurelan," Jim greeted fondly. "How are you?" He hugged her and she laughed lightly.

"I'm getting by, don't you worry."

Sam glanced around, peeking behind Jim and noticing Spock, standing a respectable distance away.

"Well, let's meet your wonderful first officer, yeah?" He suggested, patting Jim on the shoulder.

Jim waved Spock over with an encouraging smile and placed a hand absently on the small of his back as he introduced him.

"This is Spock, my first officer and one of my closest friends." Spock nodded to the couple, deducing that not only would a ta'al be unsuited for such an _informal_ introduction, he also did not wish to intimidate or pressure them into returning his gesture.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Spock," Aurelan said, smiling graciously at him and Sam echoed her sentiment.

Spock noted that looked _strikingly_ like his brother, if not for the addition of a full moustache.

"Well, we left Peter with Aurelan's family," Sam started. "Shall we go meet them all for a nice meal?" It was clearly rhetorical, as he began leading the group through the resort grounds and into a nice, sleekly designed building.

Inside, there was both a wall of replicators and a traditional kitchen, allowing guests to choose their method and Sam led them to a long table at which six people were already seated.

"No need to stand up," Sam said to the table as he sat down at the head, Aurelan at his right and Jim finding a set on his left with an open chair at his own side, which Spock quickly occupied.

"Everyone, this is Jim, my brother, and Spock his first officer," Sam introduced them.

"Jim and Spock, this is Peter," Sam gestured to a small, redhead boy who was fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth.

"Aurelan's parents, Angie and Faulden Briggs," an older couple who clearly resembled Aurelan nodded to them.

"Her aunt and uncle, Samantha and Mason Keen, and their son Bishop." Samantha clearly had her sister's genes, as did their adult son, although they gave less of a greeting to Jim and Spock.

"It's nice to meet you all," Jim said to the table as a whole, before turning his attention to his menu, eager to have something to eat.

Peter spoke up in the lull, no longer picking at the tablecloth.

"Mr. Spock," he piped up, at which Spock gave the boy his polite attention, "are you a scientist?"

Jim was _sure_ no one else noticed, but he caught the quick upturn of Spock's lips before he schooled them and nodded.

"Indeed I am. Are you a scientist as well?" As asked and the light in Peter's eyes came to life.

"I'm a geologist," Peter explained, sitting up straight and telling Spock all about his rock collection, the samples he took from all the places he visited (with permission, of course) and the studies he did comparing them and the rocks he found at home.

Spock nodded along with everything he said, looking genuinely intrigued by Peter's non-standard way of testing and comparing samples, although all fell within the margins of proper science.

Peter had to take a pause to drink water and catch his breath and Jim grinned, leaning over to speak quietly to Spock.

"He's always had a love of geology, although last time I saw him he was fascinated by the connection between rocks and _soil,_ if I recall he dug up his mother's fruit garden 'for science.'"

Spock turned towards Jim, their faces a lot closer than anticipated.

"He has a wonderful mind and a passion for learning. I am certain he would find the geology of my planet a source of unending joy." And he told the boy as much, eliciting a barrage of questions about the sandstone and rock composition on Vulcan, all of which Spock answered readily.

After their meal, during which no one at the table spoke, Peter insisted upon taking Spock and Aurelan out to see the huge rock formations near the resort and Jim watched him go, his heart as soft as his gaze.

Sam found him standing in the sun outside and nudged his shoulder.

_"Jim,"_ he said, a grin plastered on his face. "I always knew you could do better than Ruth." He said it without a trace of bitterness, but Jim still huffed at any mention of his old Academy flames.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Sam winded an arm around Jim's shoulder and started walking them towards the enormous boulders in the distance.

"I mean, Spock is one hell of a man. How'd you ever get a Vulcan to fall in love with you?"

Jim didn't let his overwhelming surprise show.

"He's wonderful," Sam continued. "The way he looks at you," a sigh, " I'm so happy you get to have that. You deserve it, Jimmy."

Jim smiled wryly. "You were doing so well," he pointed out. "Pity you have an intrinsic need to get on my nerves."

Sam laughed and shook his head fondly.

"I always knew you'd find that lasting love, Jim. Hold onto it." With that, he patted Jim's shoulder and drifted away, leaving Jim staring at the back of Spock's head.

Spock turned, holding his tricorder again, and gave Jim that _not-smile_ — the one where it shone in his eyes but not his mouth.

Jim stared. His brother thought they were _together._ He could feel the words catch up to him, going red at the cheeks. Spock reached out and held Jim's arm— oh that felt like _fire_ somehow—

"You are flushed, Jim, perhaps it would be safer to go back inside," Spock said gently and Jim let himself be taken up to their room.

* * *

The evening passed quietly. Aurelan's aunt and uncle had plans at the Federation outpost, possibly work-related. Her parents tended to keep to themselves after dinner, she explained, so they all went their separate ways, promising a time the next morning to meet for brunch and get to know each other.

Jim sat on the edge of their bed, _their bed, his and Spock's and his brother thought they were—_ Spock emerged from the adjoined bathroom in a light sleeping robe, a pale, dusty shade of green. Jim felt his heart skip.

“Jim, are you alright? You have been distant,” Spock asked. Oh. Of course he would notice.

Jim sighed, letting his shoulders relax and trying to seep the tension out of him. He hadn’t _meant to_ avoid Spock. Of course not. But after what Sam had said he started realizing things, the way his actions could be seen, the different light that now bathed every movement around Spock and he had changed it, not wanting Spock to _realize,_ but what if he had?

“My brother…” Jim started, and Spock sat down next to him, so close, and gave Jim his full attention like he always did.

“My brother thinks we are romantically involved.” Jim said it like ripping off a bandaid, prepared himself for whatever negative reaction Spock might have. He didn’t get one, didn’t get _anything_ just yet so the words started to spill out of him and he couldn’t stop them.

“He’s always wanted the best for me, it’s instinct for him. And I’d somehow always end up with people who _didn’t_ have my best interests at heart.” He wanted to stop, could feel his chest constricting with the memories of a time long past, but his mouth kept moving.

"I have _never_ seen him that happy about me before. Maybe when I earned my captaincy, but this is _something else._ He's so full of joy, Spock, I don't wanna snuff that out. Can you understand that?" Jim didn’t know what he was asking. But he was, with everything he had, and Spock heard it.

"I can, Jim. Perhaps it would be in _our_ best interests to uphold his assumptions for the time being." Spock stood up, walked around the bed to the other side and pulled back the sheet to crawl under. Jim followed on auto-pilot, processing the implications of what Spock had just suggested.

Had Spock just… said they should pretend to be together?

"I thought Vulcans didn't lie,” he said, the words tumbling out in a clumsy way. Somehow that was the only thing that seemed important then, not any of the million ways a plan like that could go wrong.

Spock didn't answer, though Jim was almost certain he heard him suck in a breath in the dark of the room.

Spock turned over, back facing him, and like that— a gentle click of a button, a steadying inhale of air— the conversation was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration for this chapter was done by me!
> 
> Y'all can find me on twitter @voiidvagabond, I'll try to be better about posting fic updates there if you wanna know how things are coming along :D


	3. cambium: a tissue layer that provides partially undifferentiated cells for plant growth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever rip

The morning light shone through the windows in Jim's room, falling on the floor and creeping up onto the bed with the path of the planet.

Jim blinked his eyes open against the bright light and shifted so he wasn't staring at it.

His arm was resting on Spock's waist. He wanted to let it stay there.

Jim's legs were tangled in the thin bedsheet and Spock was curled up next to him, looking peaceful and beautiful.

Jim decided he might as well go freshen up before Spock awoke and started to lift his hand gently away from him.

Spock woke up.

His eyes flicked open and stared at Jim, freezing him in his movements. Spock shifted to sit up and Jim pulled his hand away like he'd been burned, sitting up as well.

"Good morning." Jim moved back a little, his legs still wound up in the bedsheet and Spock blinked owlishly at him, slid his sleeves back down his arms from where they'd ridden up.

"You are warm," Spock said, quietly enough that Jim wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it or not. He stared right back at Spock, took in his mussed-up hair and the faint flush on his cheeks.  _ Had  _ he  _ done that? _

"I'm warm? Spock, you're  _ hot." _

Jim snapped his mouth shut just as the words came out, blush looking like a sunburn on his face.

"Temperature, I mean," Jim fumbled as he backed away and slipped off the other edge of the bed. His leg caught in the sheets and nearly sent him tumbling to the ground but with a yank, he was free.

Spock's eyes didn't leave him for a second as he hastily gathered up clothing and practically fled to the bathroom, shutting the door and pressing his bare back against it.

In his defense, Spock  _ had _ been really warm.

* * *

Spock stayed in bed up until the bathroom door clicked shut. Then, he slowly made his way across the room to pick out something to wear. Today, they were having brunch, presumably as a convenient way to socialize, and Spock knew from both experience and research that it was commonplace to wear one's best attire to such a gathering.

The days on Carsei never got hot enough to be uncomfortable for Spock, yet were still warm. He would feel at ease in whatever he chose to wear, no matter how light or heavy the fabric.

_ "I'm  _ warm?  _ Spock, you're _ hot."

Spock closed his suitcase as Jim's earlier words floated to the forefront of his mind. He knew what connotations that phrase held if not specified to be referring to temperature.

Jim had specified, although quite hastily, like an  _ afterthought. _

He let himself linger on the words for a moment more, to entertain the idea of Jim finding him physically attractive. It would be a first.

He had not time for a morning meditation to make up for the lack of one the night before. Without thinking on it too much, Spock had shifted to fit Jim's schedule. His mind was not disturbed, however, nor in enough disarray to pose a threat to this social gathering he was to attend.

He would set aside time later to perform a small afternoon meditation, or perhaps return to his nightly routine, if it did not impede Jim.

As he waited for Jim to finish in the bathroom, he remembered his offer from the night before. A ruse,  _ a fake, _ for the sake of Samuel Kirk's joy.

Spock trusted Jim implicitly, and if he felt so strongly about it, Spock was willing to pretend… for him. It would by no means be simple, imagining what he'd say, what he'd do to keep up the assumption that they were partners.

He would have to talk to Jim about boundaries, no doubt. Spock knew he could only take so much and there was no telling how much Jim would give.

Spock was still crouched by his suitcase when Jim came out of the bathroom, looking fresh and much more awake.

"Jim. A word before you go?" Spock stood up, taking a step towards the bed.

"Of course. What about, Spock?" Jim asked, walking with him to sit on the bed.

Spock clasped his hands in his lap, taking a breath.

"I would like to set my boundaries for our… assumed relationship," he began. "I am not fond of public displays of affection, you know that. I would ask that we keep our contact to what it is now. Occasional. I would prefer verbal affirmations of our affection."

Jim leaned back on his arms, smiling softly.

"That sounds acceptable, Spock. I'm not sure we'll need to change much to convince Sam and the rest. Anything extra, I'll be sure to ask first. Is that alright?"

Spock nodded. "Perfectly."

A loud  _ ping _ jolted them out of their conversation. The room’s padd was blinking at them and Jim sprawled out on the bed to reach up and get it from the bedside table.

Opening the notification, he went quiet, running his fingers absently over his mouth, and made a noise of affirmation.

“What is it?” Spock asked.

"The uh… I got a message late last night. We have a scheduled time at that waterfall tomorrow, around noon. It's a few hours, it might be fun. I'll let Sam know." He removed his fingers from around his mouth and turned to Spock, who had risen to stand in the doorway of the bathroom. "You need anything?"

Spock glanced at the padd in Jim’s hand, then to his face, then to the bed. He shook his head.

"Alright. I'll see you downstairs, then?"

"I shall be down momentarily." Spock closed the door.

* * *

Jim hadn’t really known what to expect when Spock asked to talk, but it certainly wasn’t that. He had assumed that they’d both try and talk about their… arrangement as little as possible, but now it made much more sense.

JIm was glad for it, He’d never want to accidentally do something that Spock wasn’t comfortable with. Jim read over the message again before setting the padd on the bedside table and going to the door.

He met Sam in the lobby, reading a book to Peter while the boy fidgeted in his seat. Jim came sat down near them and Peter abandoned the book in favor of scooting closer to Jim.

"Uncle Jim? I have a question,” he asked politely and Jim was filled with pride that he had such a nice nephew. He smiled.

"Yes, Peter?"

"Why does Mr. Spock look at you all the time? I've never seen anybody look at anybody else so much." Peter held Jim in his curious gaze and Jim flicked his eyes to Sam, who just grinned, and then behind him, to the elevator. He paused.

"Well, uh… I think Spock would be better suited to answer that, don't you think?" Jim deflected. “Why don’t we wait for him to get here, hm?”

Peter nodded.

“No matter. I am here now. What do you require?” Spock asked, entering the little circle of chair and sitting down. He was wearing a rich grey robe today embroidered with thin, delicate silver threads, but Jim could see pops of color peeking out from underneath.

“I— Peter just asked why… well, why you’re always looking at me.” Jim willed himself not to blush at that, although he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

Spock laced his fingers in front of him, turning to Peter and answering him clearly. "It is because I have feelings for him. I find him attractive. And it is only logical that one would want to look at that which they find to be pleasing."

Peter seemed to find the answer sufficient, or at least amusing, because he giggled, thanked Spock, and went to crawl into his father’s lap.

"Pleasing, eh, Spock?" Jim teased, testing the waters. Spock’s hands tightened around each other. Jim thought he saw a blush dusting the tips of Spock’s ears.

"I chose my wording to be as accurate as possible,” He reasoned, and Jim dipped his head so he could make eye contact with Spock as he glanced down.

"I find you attractive as well. For what it’s worth.”

Spock released his hands, smoothing out his robe over his lap. “It is ‘worth’ quite a lot,  _ ashayam,” _ he breathed, returning Jim’s gaze with softness. Jim smiled. He’d have to ask Spock what that meant later.

* * *

Sam had arranged outdoor seating for their brunch, a long white table and matching chairs, with a wide awning to shield from the gusts of wind. It was very warm out, enough so that Jim pushed his sleeves up his forearms and planned on basking in the starlight later on. The others hadn’t arrived yet, but Aurelan was seated and Peter scrambled to sit beside her.

Jim found the chair across from his brother and claimed it, turning to ask Spock to sit next to him. The words died gloriously in his throat.

Spock had pulled off the grey robe, revealing underneath, a layered, flowing gown of pinks and peaches, resembling a flower in many ways. On top was a long-sleeved robe of a rich silken fabric, the hem almost feathering out into something more fine and the sculpted shoulders and high collar were embroidered with intricate beading shaped like what looked to be small peach blossoms. Underneath seemed to be layers of thin, shimmering fabrics which peeked out from under the top robe, ruffling like so many rose petals.

Jim was struck speechless, he had half a mind to drop to his knees and find all the poetic metaphors he could for Spock’s otherworldly beauty.

Once he had picked his jaw up off the floor, Jim reached out and ran his fingers along the fine fabric of the thing, trailing his eyes up from the sleeves to Spock’s face, colored by a faint blush.

“I’ve never seen you wear this before,” Jim mumbled. “Where did you find it?”

“I had it tailored on Vulcan.” Spock folded his grey coat crisply and laid it over the back of his chair.

“Wh— why? How?” Jim stuttered, still gazing in awe at the intricate beading and embroidery on the sleeves and the collar of the piece.

“When we were located on Alten V for a diplomatic mission I recall you said that you loved the color of the starset and wished it could be made into a fabric so one could wear it and look at it whenever they liked.” Spock let the shadow of a smile show on his face.

“That was over four months ago. You remembered?” Jim asked, wondrously.

Spock turned to him. “I do not forget, when it comes to you.” Jim was engulfed by the words, by the way they were said: with care and gentleness but a strength that wouldn’t waver.

“Oh, you romantic,” Jim gushed, letting his heart fill with love. He pulled out Spock’s chair for him, letting his hands rest on his shoulders for a moment before taking his own seat. If anything, even if this brunch didn’t go according to plan, Jim would at least have seen Spock in such a gorgeous outfit.


	4. edaphic: of or influenced by the soil

Spock did not relish the spotlight like so many of his crewmates. He did not thrive in it, much like his captain. He never particularly  _ avoided _ being the center of attention, no, it just never liked him all that much. Nor he it.

A lifetime of his father, culture, peers, all grinding into him the idea that grabbing attention, drawing it towards oneself, was synonymous with vanity and Vulcans  _ were not _ vain… So Spock did not have strong opinions of being the center of attention.

Nonetheless.

All eyes, nine pairs trained on him as Jim conversed, made him question his non-opinions. It was the outfit. That much was obvious. He had not received the same reaction the day before, thus— and really, he had worried over the decision for far too long that morning. It shouldn't have been so difficult, it was a simple thing.

No so simple, after all. Spock had chosen to wear the particular ensemble solely because it was accessible and he  _ knew _ Jim would like it. Wasn't that the point? To do little things for the sake of one's romantic partner's happiness?  _ For the sake, _ Spock reminded himself as he sat down at the table and closed his eyes for a grounding moment,  _ of their fake relationship. _

Jim had breezed past his reveal quite smoothly and was now asking Samantha Keen about her and her husband's excursion to the Federation outpost the evening before. Spock slid his gaze over and noted the attractive flush to his cheeks.

This was all an act. Yet how come Jim was so adept at fabricating emotional responses in himself? He was skillful, to say the least. Spock expected nothing less from his captain. 

He watched Jim with rapt attention until he was well into his conversation, at which point Spock figured he should begin his own.

He noted the Keen's son, Bishop, was eyeing his parents and Jim as they talked, and Spock spoke around them, directly to him.

“Bishop. I would like to inquire as to your profession, or range of studies.” It was how he began many conversations, straightforward and a good opener. Jim had told him as much.

Bishop put down his fork and glared sharply at Spock. "That's quite an invasive question, why don't I ask one?" He snapped.

Spock leaned away a few inches, acutely aware of Bishop's antagonism. "I apologize. Do not feel obligated to answer," he amended, but Bishop spoke loudly over him.

"Why aren't you wearing something a little more acceptable?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jim's mind stopped paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth mid-sentence, and he focused on Spock next to him while the sounds finished forming. Bishop Keen stared at him coldly from across the table. Spock didn't do him the honor of returning it.

“Are my robes not acceptable attire, Jim?” Spock asked, not even turning. Jim set down his utensils.

“They’re perfectly acceptable, darling, don’t worry. I don’t know where Bishop is getting these notions," Jim replied primly, yet still pouring out as much genuineness as he could. He laid a fleeting touch on Spock's shoulder.

“Why are you asking him, huh?” Bishop demanded, jabbing a thumb at Jim. Spock turned to Jim now, his dark eyes soft and trusting.

“He will not lie to me.”

Bishop snorted. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I am not, Mr. Keen. I am answering your question.” Spock laced his fingers together and finally deigned to look at Bishop.

“I think you’re being smart with me. You see this, mom?” Bishop sneered, nudging his mother and not catching her long-suffering eye roll. 

“Bishop, just finish your food,” she muttered.

“Hmph.”

A blanket of uncomfortable silence covered the table and Jim heard Aurelan sigh under her breath from a few seats down.

Mason had nearly finished his food— he was a fast eater, which Jim could understand— when he suddenly looked up at Spock and cleared his throat.

“So, Spock, have you found a... a girlfriend? Do Vulcans do that kind of thing? I can tell you Jimmy’s always had people falling all over themselves to win his heart, haha, as long as I’ve known him. What about you?” He seemed a little awkward, like he wanted to settle the mood but he  _ knew _ this wasn’t the best way to go about it.

Jim found his hand gripping his fork with enough force to make his knuckles pop.  _ “Metaphorically  _ falling over themselves. And  _ don’t  _ call me Jimmy,” he gritted out. It didn’t have the same lightheartedness as when he admonished Sam for it.

Spock unlaced his fingers and rested them in his lap under the table. Jim felt a comforting weight on his leg and glanced down to find Spock had placed his hand there.

“Vulcans do not use Earth terms as such, Mr. Keen. Our primary thoughts surrounding choosing a partner involve how logical the choice will be,” he said, as if he  _ hadn’t _ just effectively calmed and distracted Jim in one motion. His hand was warm. He wanted to hold onto it, but they were  _ so far _ for ever being at that point, and Jim wished more than anything that this wasn’t just a fake.

“As yes, you all do seem caught up with logic,” Mason said breezily. Jim’s eyebrows furrowed.

“It is an important part of their culture,” he explained slowly. Spock nodded in agreement.

“Indeed.”

Mason laughed nervously. “So?” he prompted. Jim’s eyes found Sam’s and his brother smirked, trying to hide his amusement. Jim couldn’t fault him for it.

Spock did something with his shoulders that reminded Jim of a sigh. “No. I have not found a ‘girlfriend.’ There is no need for me to do so when I already have a partner." He turned slightly and looked Jim, eyes deep with  _ something _ that Jim just wanted to get lost in.

"Who…?" Sam, from down the table, widened his eyes. Jim bit down on his lip to not laugh.

"It's  _ me,  _ Mason,” Jim said, a dry smile pulling at his lips. He leaned closer to Spock for emphasis.

"Oh!" Mason said. The color drained from his face. Bishop snorted again, shaking his head from where he was hunched over his plate. “Oh…"

“So, Jim, how’s captaincy?” Sam said loudly, and the attention shifted again.

Jim grinned, leaning back in his chair and shrugging. “Bearable, with the right first officer,” he joked.

“Bearable is an understatement. You have expressed your joy at being in the position of captain on multiple occasions,” Spock reminded him. He started to rub circles against Jim’s leg with his thumb.

“Yes, Spock, I guess it was.” Jim could feel his cheeks heat up and he avoided looking in Sam's direction, dreading the non-verbal teasing he’d get.

"Then again, most of that  _ joy _ comes from having such a capable crew at hand,” Jim continued. "I'm sure I'd be downright miserable with any other crew."

And he would. Jim couldn’t imagine surviving this long without the crew he’d come to know as family by his side.

"So how did you two first meet?" From next to Aurelan, Angie leaned forward and gestured between them.

Jim looked over at Spock, who gave him a tiny shrug. He cleared his throat.

"We met the day I earned command of the Enterprise. Spock had served as chief science officer under a different captain and… well, he wanted to be mine."

Jim went red.

"Um. Well, wait, I mean he wanted to be  _ my first officer. _ Not that, well… " Jim could hear Sam snickering under his breath.

"That too, I guess," Jim said, trying to salvage some of his dignity. "This is why I'm not a diplomat," he mumbled.

"Jim is my closest friend. And he has been such for many years." Jim's ears perked up as Spock took over speaking and he found himself staring again.

"It was… " he took a deep breath and squeezed Jim's leg,  _ "natural _ that I would develop affections for him. He is," Spock turned to gaze into Jim's eyes.

"He is the one and only logical choice for me."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jim found himself hooked on that one sentence far after their brunch concluded and he and Spock chose to migrate to the gardens for some reading. He, recreationally, and Spock catching up on ship updates and Federation news.

He kept stealing glances at Spock, seated next to him with his legs gently crossed at the ankle, head tilted down as he peered at the padd in his lap. The just-after-noon starlight illuminated his features brightly.

He  _ knew _ that Spock was aware of his staring. He always was. But despite, he couldn't help it. He wanted to look. It felt like if he ever stopped looking Spock would just melt away and he needed to memorize all he could.

“Spock,” Jim found himself saying, with no direction or intent. Spock raised his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly towards Jim. His eyes lingered on his padd, finishing a sentence before following his head and landing somewhere between his jaw and cheek before his dark eyes finally met Jim’s own.

“Jim.” He didn’t know when, but somewhere along the line he started to crave the sound of Spock speaking his name.

“Did I tell you how lovely you look today?” he said.

“Not using that particular phrasing,” Spock replied.

“You are a vision of grace,” Jim began, and he didn’t know if he was going to stop, “I don’t know how you do it every day. You’re beautiful.” Jim stumbled over the words. A heavy breeze rushed past them, upsetting Spock’s clothes and ruffling the shades of pink.

“You’re kind and smart and talented. A-and you said I was your one and only logical choice.” He huffed out a laugh. “You have to know that was a real boost to my ego.”

Spock gave him an expression that might’ve folded into a smile.

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock said with measured tone, just at the same time as Jim forced out. “I really lucked out getting to pretend to be with you.”

They stared, amber eyes against deep brown. Spock tilted his head. Jim didn’t breathe.

Aurelan wandered up to them, a grin on her face that didn’t fade.

“Well, to be honest, brunch went better than I’d hoped,” she said. “I know my family can be… less than ideal,” she laughed to fill the silence, “but I hope you two weathered the storm?”

Jim blinked and Spock was back to reading on his padd. He had a finger against his lips, like he did when deep in thought.  _ What was he thinking about? _

“Well, my whole career is weathering storms, so to speak. We did okay, thanks,” Jim finally said. “I think we all have our fair share of family members who don’t speak for the rest.”

Aurelan reached over and patted Jim’s shoulder. “Some more than others.” She winked at him and Jim tried to give her a smile back.

“Sam mentioned wanting to talk to Spock, he and Peter are over at those big boulders we found yesterday, if that’s something you’d like to do?” Aurelan turned to Spock then, and he looked up from his padd again, flicked his gaze to Jim. Jim raised his eyebrows.

“I will. Thank you, Aurelan.” Spock stood. He nodded to Aurelan and Jim, lingering for a moment like he wanted to say something more, and then turned and left.

Jim sighed, loudly enough for Aurelan to come and sit in Spock’s vacated spot.

“Anything wrong?” She asked. Jim had always appreciated how much she was always open to help, how concerned she’d always been for him and Sam. Jim shrugged. He turned off his padd and set it down on the bench.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Sometimes I envy him, emotions aren’t so hard. He just… controls them, holds them deep. Me? I can’t do that. It’s all so confusing, you know?”

Aurelan nodded along with him.

“That’s true,” she agreed. “But the upside is that both of you can talk to each other. That’s all it takes, sometimes, you know?” She smiled at Jim, and this time he couldn’t help but return it full-force.

  
  
  
  


Spock had witnessed many different familial relationships over his lifetime, but Sam and Peter Kirk were different.

Peter was climbing up the side of a boulder when Spock approached them, Sam underneath with his hands up, ready to catch him if need be. Peter seemed so unafraid, like he had complete and utter trust in his father.

Spock paused for a moment to imagine that kind of trust. Whole and real, the giving of something so important to one person.

Sam caught Peter effortlessly when he shouted that was going to jump, and the two laughed together for a few moments before Sam noticed Spock and the three of them got caught up in a conversation about the circumstances of the boulders’ presence where they were. It was fascinating and surprisingly stimulating.

And then, in the middle of a sentence about the seismic activity of the planet’s regions, Spock realized…

He didn't have to  _ imagine _ the kind of trust. He already had it. He had already given that trust.

Jim found him later and they walked back to their rooms. Spock was quiet on the way, pondering, thinking. He was always good at that.

  
And then Jim smiled and he knew it wasn’t just  _ trust _ he had given to Jim. But it was still just as  _ whole and real. _ As if he could give anything less to that man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is actually my favorite! It should be up in the next few days. In the mean time... Please go back and check chapter two, I illustrated Spock's outfit! :D You can also see it on my Twitter, @voiidvagabond


	5. idioblast: a cell, especially of a leaf, differing markedly from surrounding cells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If u see me heavily projecting in this chapter bc I also have a brother who I love and miss no u don't

Sam lit up like the stars in the sky when Jim told him that evening that he had secured a few hours at the pond with the waterfalls. He couldn't stop talking about how it brought him back to when they were kids, ten or so years old and racing each other across the pond that sat back behind their house and through the fields.

Jim smiled as he listened and they went back and forth, trading memories, laughs and jabs at each other which neither of them took too seriously.

They were sitting inside the resort, a low coffee table between them and Jim was curled in a soft chair while Sam stretched his legs out on a longer couch.

They hadn't taken the time to really  _ talk _ like this, one-on-one, just yet and Jim was thankful for it now. He missed his brother. Always did.

Sam was gazing off, away from Jim, and watching his side profile lost in thought dredged up some memories.

"Sam, I don't tell you nearly enough but I love you."

It had gotten dark sometime during their conversation and the sky outside was inky through the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out into the gardens. Jim warmed his hands on the mug of coffee he'd gotten earlier, holding onto the last vestiges of its heat.

Sam pulled his gaze away from the windows and Jim saw something in his eyes that he hadn't known since he was fourteen and hurting  _ so deeply _ inside.

"I love you too, Jim," he breathed, like he couldn't risk anybody else in the universe hearing it.

Jim smiled back at him and an easy, familiar silence drifted over them.

He was ready to tell Sam that it was late and they should both get some sleep when Spock swept over to their table, hands tucked behind his back and still wearing his dazzling outfit from earlier.

Jim dragged his gaze up from the floor to Spock's face as he stood by his chair, slightly bent at the hip to be closer.

"Jim," Spock began, and  _ really _ he was already distracted. Spock smelled like the incense he always used to help him meditate— a dry yet sweet something— but he also  _ didn't _ make a habit of meditating in anything other than his specific meditation robes, which meant he was upstairs in their room, meditated and ready to sleep, but found some reason to be back downstairs so he put back on his day clothes, came all the way here and…

And? Jim didn't know. One utterance of his name in that low, almost gravelly tone and he had tuned out.

"Jim, are you alright?" Spock asked, genuine concern lacing through his voice and Jim finally stopped staring, glassy-eyed at Spock's lips and blinked himself back.

"Yes, quite," Jim muttered. "Would you mind repeating? I didn't catch what you said," he added.

Spock nodded slightly and bent over even more.

"I have come to inquire at which time you will be returning to our room? It is late and I… " Jim watched with the distinct feeling of heat across his cheeks as Spock flicked his eyes over to Sam, lowered his voice a fraction, and continued.

"I do not wish to rest without you."

Jim could feel his heart stutter— he'd have to see Bones for that if it kept up— and rose from his chair a little quicker than was necessary.

"What time?" Jim repeated, "right now." He laid a hand gently on Spock's forearm and sent a look his brother's way before walking with Spock to the elevator.

He could hear his heart beating in his ears with every step, feel the heat radiating off Spock from how close they stand in the elevator. He was suffocating.

He didn't want it to stop.

"So…" Jim tried to fill the silence. "That was quite the performance back there." It was an attempt at a joke. Spock straightened his back, lengthened the distance between their eyes and his hands slipped securely behind his back.

There was no 'performance,' Jim." Spock's words seemed to suck the air out of the space. "I only spoke the truth."

"Because," and Jim didn't know where his direction was with the sentence. Spock finished it for him.

"Because Vulcans do not lie."

Of course.

And didn't that make things so much more of a blur?

Jim barely registered the rest of the ride up to their room, or changing into his nightclothes or getting into bed and turning the lights off, but once the room was drenched in darkness his mind wouldn’t stop running.

Spock hadn’t drastically changed his actions. He hadn’t, for the entire duration of their stay, done anything that wasn’t truthful to himself. And that was the question, if this was his truth then… had Jim been reading their friendship wrong this whole time?

Spock, who reminded the crew constantly that he disliked physical contact, yet didn't dissuade Jim from it, didn’t have any qualms with initiating it, even. Spock, who iterated that  _ Vulcans do not lie, _ over and over and didn’t shoot down Jim’s idea of pretending to be in love with each other and told him to his face that he didn’t want to go to sleep without him there.

Could it mean… ?

But if he was wrong, Jim thought it might tear him apart.

* * *

It was just the two of them, plus Sam, Aurelan and Peter at the waterfalls. Jim wasn’t too surprised, but it worked out for the better. He’d rather be around people he knew and loved, especially when he was probably about to do some very dumb things for the sake of enjoyment.

There was a narrow walkway down from the balcony to the water’s edge and they filed slowly down, Peter talking to his mother excitedly about the composition of the rock face and Sam bringing up the rear, carrying a few towels, a picnic blanket, and a small cooler full of snacks.

The falls looked ever more majestic from below.

The starlight filtered through the water spray at the bottom, sending rainbows bending across the rippling surface of the pool, the deep shade of blue seemed even more consuming up close.

Jim wanted to jump in as soon as he could, to feel the coolness of real liquid water across his skin but he held back, helping Sam unload what he was carrying before he found Spock a little ways away at a spot where the bank of the pool sloped down, making an easy access to the water. He was gazing across at the waterfalls, fingers laced together at his waist and the water lazily lapping up just shy of his feet.

He had foregone any kind of layered, intricate dress today, simply clad in a black short-sleeved bodysuit and a dark robe that covered him snugly and tied at the waist with a sash. Jim had asked before they left if he planned on swimming, to which Spock had replied: “I may be inclined to explore alternative options for recreation.” All things considered, let no one have said that Spock wasn’t considerate. Jim couldn’t think of a better way to say no while still sparing his feelings. He was, of course, aware of how excited he was and how much he’d let it show.

Jim walked back to their little picnic spot where Aurelan was applying sun protection to Peter and Sam was just finished changing into his bathing suit.

“Shall we?” he prompted. “I’ll race you to the water.”

Jim’s eyes lit up and he turned on his heel, sprinting back towards the water while also trying to pry his shirt over his head as he went.

Two splashes later and a shouting match started. Sam tried to argue that it was an unfair race because Jim was accustomed to running for his life so it was obvious he’d win and Jim just laughed it off. He shook his hair out and pushed it back, wading into shallower water where he could just stand and take in the feeling.

  
  


Spock normally would’ve taken this opportunity to sit in the starlight and read, maybe take some tricorder readings with Peter. Things which he  _ normally did. _

Still, Spock took one look at Jim, shirtless and stretching out his arms in the rays of starlight that filtered down through the canopy— and decided to ignore the prospect of  _ alternative options. _

He untied the sash around his waist and shed the robe, folding it neatly and hanging it on a nearby tree branch, not too far away from the water. He felt startlingly vulnerable in only underclothes, even if those were not revealing by principle. He took off his shoes methodically, setting them on the ground beneath his robe.

The windchill wasn’t normally a problem, and even here that held true. There wasn’t a logical reason for it, but Spock brought his arms around himself as if to account for temperature drop.

The water was cool and refreshing when he stepped into it, the small waves splashing up around his ankles. It was a sensation he rarely felt, and so he didn’t have a clear idea of whether or not he liked it yet.

Wading out deeper, Spock shivered when the water reached his mid-thigh and Jim caught sight of him, splashing over with a hesitant smile on his face.

“Changed your mind?” Jim asked, standing close and gazing down at the water with him.

Spock began to nod his head and stopped partway through.

"That is to be determined, I am afraid," he said.

Jim ghosted his fingers over his hipbones, landing on his waist delicately as he leaned in.

"Is this okay?" He asked. Spock reached over and gripped Jim's left wrist with his hand.

"Very."

Jim smiled, a bright little thing which was accompanied by a flush on his cheeks that made Spock want to kiss it right off his face.

"Do you know how to swim?" Jim asked suddenly, glancing away and over the deeper part of the pool.

Spock blinked. "I do. It is mandatory Starfleet knowledge except in the case of extenuating circumstances, none of which apply to me."

"Of course,” Jim said, nodding resolutely. "Do you want to go out deeper?" He pulled Spock closer by his hips and grinned up at him. Spock exhaled through his nose. It wasn’t a sigh, but it served the purpose of one. He wasn’t going to say no. It would probably be a lot more enjoyable with Jim than without.

They stood in the clear water, the gentle moving of the surface coming just shy of Jim's chin. He glanced between Spock's face, the trees clustered a distance away behind his head and at his own hands, still holding Spock's hips, under the crystalline water.

Spock felt the uncomfort of oversaturated skin not too many minutes later and he reluctantly slipped away from Jim and back to the shore.

He allowed time to air dry his underclothes while he watched Jim and his brother swim and splash each other, light banter passing between the two easily.

Once Sam tired, he swapped with Aurelan, who took Peter to the shallow edge of the pond and Spock watched Sam become quickly absorbed in a book on his padd.

Peter was content to swim alongside his mother, seemingly more skilled than Spock had originally assumed. The three of them swam clear across the pond and Jim began to follow Aurelan as she climbed up a rocky cliff face near the waterfalls. It wasn’t a particularly high wall, and Peter stayed down below on a little rock that jutted out over the water so he could rest.

The cliff they climbed wasn’t any more dangerous than others he and Jim had encountered on their missions, but he still worried.

"Please exercise the utmost caution, Jim!" Spock called, standing up quickly and moving to the edge of the water. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Years of being by Jim’s side had conditioned him to be acutely aware of any dangers, more so than usual.

"Oh, come on, you know me!" Jim shouted back, grinning easily. He scaled the rocks up to the little outcropping at which Aurelan was already sitting, legs dangling over the edge. Spock was still watching him with his eyebrows pulled together, lips set into a thin line.

"You don't have to worry, love, I'll be just fine,” Jim said, quieter this time, but he figured Spock would still be able to hear him. Spock nodded tensely but he stepped away from the pool and sat back down on his blanket.

When Jim jumped off the cliff, he let out a cry of joy, soaring through the air until he hit the water with an enormous splash and resurfaced soon after.

Spock barely even registered Aurelan diving in after Jim, because he was lazily treading water nearby and looking at Spock with a huge grin.

Spock felt himself move automatically when Jim swam over to the shallows and waded out of the water, shaking out his damp hair. Spock handed him a towel and watched him pat down his water-slick skin, chest heaving from all the swimming.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a few minutes to relax," Jim said casually.

Spock grabbed his robes from the tree and followed Jim to where Sam was half-asleep on a blanket and trying to keep his eyes open to read.

They sat side by side while Jim finished drying his hair and watched Peter and Aurelan swim leisurely. When Spock pulled his robes back on and resettled on the blanket he noticed that Jim was fidgeting where he sat. Spock was no stranger to Jim’s restrained energy, knew when to look out for it and how to help. Jim worried the edge of the blanket between his fingers, brow furrowed slightly, and sighed.

“Jim?” Spock prompted, soft and gentle. Jim pulled his eyes away from his hand and turned towards Spock.

"May I kiss you?" Jim asked, moving closer to Spock.

Spock looked up from his lap, an obvious flush dusted over his cheeks, and stared at Jim while his rapid heart beat twice in his side. This was sudden. Or, at least, to him it came from nowhere. This was—  _ real, to him, _ but it was a pitiable façade. He took a breath, humored a man who was committed to pretending.

Spock lifted his hand, two long, delicate fingers outstretched, and kept his eyes locked on Jim. The noise of the waterfall faded out as Jim mirrored the gesture, waiting for Spock to move, to take the lead.

It was a purely intimate feeling, a touch that felt  _ so close _ and personal when Spock met their fingers that Jim felt the need to pull Spock's other arm over and shield the act with his sleeve. It was unnecessary for Spock to feel so deeply about an act which was purely performative, but nonetheless. He did.

It was not his first, but Jim was so gentle and the shade of his eyes was like syrup, catching the warm starlight and making them seem to glow. It was wonderful.

* * *

  
  
  


Spock leaned in, so close that Jim could feel his warmth over his neck, and muttered to him. "You have my permission to kiss me in the human fashion as well, if you so desire."

_ Desire. _

When it came to Spock, that word came back and back and back.

He had wanted to kiss Spock for so long he couldn’t even remember when the thought had first presented itself. But ever since then, however long ago it may have been, his life had become a flurry of wanting to get closer to his first officer in any way he’d have, and fighting to keep his growing feelings at bay.

This kiss, defined in a different way than he usually would, felt like a culmination of many things, like a promise and an admission, all without words. He didn’t want to stop. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN A MONTH, I'M SORRY
> 
> Let me know what y'all thought of this chapter! I really liked it! It was actually the second bit of this fic that I had the idea for and I just am very proud of it! I know it took a comparative eternity, but I haven't been able to give 100% to anything happening in my life so... uh, yeah. Good news is I've already started the final chapter so I don't expect it to take nearly as long. We're in the final stretch, folks! Buckle up!
> 
> Also, I'm posting art n stuff on my Twitter @voiidvagabond so go peep that if u want I guess


	6. scandent: climbing, by whatever means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for leaving y'all hanging again aaaaa anyway here we are.

"I want to kiss you." He said.

Spock stopped what he was doing— scanning the vibrantly colored flowers in the resort's gardens— and turned his head to look at Jim, who had blurted out the words without any prompting.

They were alone, not a single relative in sight, and Jim's cheeks were getting redder with every passing silent moment.

It was two days after their time at the waterfalls. Jim hadn't brought up their kiss and thus, neither did Spock. It didn't seem to have affected Jim in any way that Spock could see, although that was no surprise. Spock only hoped Jim didn't notice the ways in which it affected _him._

The two days had been spent reading the backlogs of crew messages sent to both of their comms and having dinner with the relatives again, in that order. Uneventful. Empty by comparison. Spock thought an awful lot during them.

He thought about the roughness of Jim's fingers on his, when he opened himself up to feel it. It was glorious, something he wished he hadn't waited so long for.

The _ozh'esta_ was a gesture older than the ancient, dry oceanbeds of Vulcan, something meant for people to experience together and _feel_ together. It was connecting and intimate and was to be treasured just as one's bonded must be treasured.

He knew that, and he _treasured._

When Jim told him, here in the present after the two empty days, that he wanted to kiss him again, he had to be sure it was not a fabrication of his own mind.

"Why?" Spock asked, stilted. He set down his tricorder in the warm dirt.

Jim glanced away for a second and then back at him.

"I want to know what it'd be like."

It was earnest, so dense with honesty that it almost sank into the ground.

"You know what it is like," Spock reminded him. He had been there too, at the pool.

"That's not it. I mean like humans do." Jim was blushing, red and beautiful, from his neck to his ears.

"You also know what that is like." Spock said it quietly, measured tones so as not to let him know how unprofessional his feelings were regarding that particular fact.

"But I don't know what it's like with you."

Spock could feel his heart pick up inside his chest. There was no possibility that Jim didn't hear how he sounded. No way he didn't see the lines between fact and fiction being blurred right before their eyes. He _said_ this was fake but Spock wasn't hearing anything but sincerity.

Did it matter? So what if he meant it? What would it change if Jim, too, had only agreed to pretend because he didn't think he'd get this any other way?

What would it change? Everything.

Spock could only manage a nod.

Jim leaned in. His lips were warm and soft.

Something about kissing in this fashion excited Spock, a newness and closeness that he'd never really felt before. He moved closer to Jim, deepening the kiss and gently resting his fingers ontop of Jim's hand.

Jim moved to cover Spock's hand with his own and—

"Jim!" Sam stopped short after rounding a corner and held his hands up. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll come back later," he mumbled.

Jim broke their kiss, shooting up from where he was crouched. He shrugged easily like he wasn't at all bothered, while in reality he'd have preferred not to be interrupted at all.

"It's not a problem," Jim lied through his teeth. "Did you need something?"

Spock barely registered the words being exchanged between the two until Jim patted his shoulder gently and told him he'd be back bery soon. Spock watched him go in a daze, bringing his fingers up to touch his lips.

"Are you that good of a kisser, Jim?" Sam asked, pointing his chin over at Spock, still crouched by the edge of the flowerbed. Jim followed his gesture, blushing to his ears at the sight _and the memory_ and shrugged.

"What can I say? Every time feels like the first."

* * *

That evening, after a tense dinner and a quiet elevator ride, Jim was sitting in bed fidgeting with his fingers and waiting for Spock to finish in the bathroom. He had to come clean. It was decided for him after their kiss in the garden.

He hadn't really meant to say anything out loud but it came up like a cough and he couldn't back down. It was… frankly, the best kiss he'd had in a long time. He would have stayed there long after if Sam hadn't come along.

But now, he felt it was time. Spock deserved to know how he really felt. He deserved the truth.

"Spock." When the door opened and Spock came out dressed in his nighttime robes looking as beautiful as ever, Jim felt his stomach flutter.

"I'd like to talk with you about something." He hadn't meant for it to sound so serious. Spock probably thought he was about to tell him he had a terminal space disease.

Spock silently sat down next to Jim and tilted his head at him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"I…" Jim took a deep breath in, smelling Spock's incense on the fabric of his clothes. He breathed it out steadily.

“I’m not sure I could even tell you when it happened, but somewhere down the line I stopped pretending and all of this got… _frighteningly_ real.”

Jim gestured between the two of them, head tilted down to look at their hands instead of Spock.

“Frighteningly?” Spock asked, his voice breathy.

“Yes," Jim admitted.

“Jim. I never wish you to be frightened.”

He smiled at that, at the warmth and sincerity in the words. “Thank you.” And he meant it.

“I wish only to represent the truth. And I have, as such," Spock began. Jim listened attentively.

“You told me you wanted to fabricate a relationship. I agreed simply because I could do so without lying about what I felt.” Spock slid his eyes over to look at Jim. “Only you… were not aware.”

There was something heavy in those words, closer to a confession than he'd ever heard before from Spock.

“I’m aware now," Jim said tentatively.

“Indeed.”

“How was it?” he probed.

“How was what?”

Jim huffed a light breath, relaxing his posture and sinking back into his pillows. “Pretending to be together.”

“Better than I could have imagined," Spock whispered, like a secret.

“You’ve imagined this?”

“On multiple occasions, yes.” Spock blushed to the tips of his ears as the words left his lips and Jim found himself grinning.

“I’m not wrong, then,” he said loudly. “Spock, let’s stop pretending.”

Spock turned full towards him then, levelling him with a stare which he couldn't put a name to but was so perfectly Spock.

“You… You are my one and only logical choice." Jim felt more than heard his voice waver on that line but he sat forward, got closer to Spock, gazed into those dark brown eyes that he used to think were black as the sky they flew through.

Spock moved his jaw like he wanted to open it, let them stew in a nice silence for a second. Spock breathed in, out, in.

“I am in love with you. I want to be with you. By your side. For as long as I am able.”

Jim's heart filled with warmth, sent it to the rest of his body and wrapped him in a feeling he never wanted to let go of. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop smiling after hearing those words from Spock.

“I do too. I am—" he sighed, reaching out like an invitation. Spock guided his hand to his cheek and let it rest there. "Spock, oh, I love you so much.”

* * *

Neither of them were able to sleep, after. Jim kept sighing with absolute bliss, still unable to wipe the grin off his cheeks and Spock's mind was probably racing a mile a minute.

“Why’d it take us so long?” Jim wondered into the air conditioned room. It seemed so simple now that they got there.

Spock let out a small breath, his version of a sigh. “I do not know. It only matters that we will not waste time further.”

Jim agreed. They had time now, there wasn't much use in wondering about the past when there was a broad, inviting future awaiting them. Together.

“No, we won’t. Let’s make sure of that," Jim said, mostly to himself and somewhat to the rest of the universe.

He wouldn't waste a second he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! I had such a wonderful time writing this and reading all the lovely comments! Y'all make me so happy! 💕 Let me know what you thought about this fic and maybe check out my other Star Trek fics if you like my writing and also Spirk?
> 
> [Salt and Rust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341819)
> 
> [A Green Isle In The Sea, Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427624)

**Author's Note:**

>  **Accrescence** n.  
> ac·cres·cence | /əˈkrɛsns/
> 
> Forming by continuous growth. Something that grows outside itself.


End file.
